Heart of Darkness
by brokenxinsanity
Summary: (Sequel to 'A Dance with Darkness') Damon and Celeste are back... with a vengeance. They've been living in peace after the events of the Christmas holiday, until unexpected dangers put them at risk. They think they've seen the last of the threats they defeated, but they soon learn that not everything that is dead stays dead.
1. Kiss of Winter

_For these violent delights have violent ends._

* * *

Time is not the great teacher. Experience is. A man may live a whole life, but if he never leaves his home to experience that life, he dies knowing nothing. A mere child who has suffered and lived can be the wiser of the two. Have you ever noticed how when you're happy, time seems to pass by fast, while when you're miserable it goes real slow? Life would have been a blink with you whether it lasted a millennium or a month.

There's always another storm. It's the way the world works. Snowstorms, rainstorms, windstorms, sandstorms, and firestorms. Some are fierce and others are small. You have to deal with each one separately, but you need to keep an eye on whats brewing for tomorrow.

Celeste couldn't help but feel like there was something brewing off in the distance and that their happiness wasn't going to last very long. It was a weird feeling you got, deep in your bones, that set a chill down your spine and you shiver at nothing on the outside, but at everything on the inside.

Damon had brought her breakfast, like he had been all week. His human side, she had forgotten how sweet he was. It had been a hundred and seventy years since she'd last seen him human, it took her awhile to get used to it. He had come up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his head on her shoulder as they stared out of the window of the Salvatore mansion.

She was where she belonged. No confusion. No worries. No troubles. He had slipped under her skin, invaded her blood and seized her heart and she didn't mind. There are certain people she trusted no matter what. Even when it seems like they've turned into monsters, she needed to stay true to them. Because, in the end, they'll be the ones backing you up.

"Join me downstairs?"

"I'm mortal. You really don't want me falling down stairs and breaking my neck." She replied.

"I'd catch you," Damon assured her solemnly.

Celeste sighed softly.

"What's the matter?"

"I feel like there's another war coming." Celeste replied, staring off into the distance. "I can't help it, but I feel it, Damon." She turned in his arms and looked up at him. "I feel it in my bones."

"Regardless on if there is something out there," Damon said, bringing his hands up to cup her face gently. "We have nothing to do with it now." He looked at her with a new glow, a new passion, a human passion to keep away from all things supernatural.

The past shouldn't be forgotten. It should be used as a guide for future situations and not used as a reason to avoid making difficult decisions. There was always a choice. There is a reason for everything. You might not be able to figure it out, and time might have made us all forget it, but the reason is there all the same.

"Every time I think I'm getting wiser, more in control of being human, I go slamming into a situation that makes me excruciatingly aware that all I've succeeded in doing is swapping one set of delusions for a more elaborate, attractive set of delusions."

Damon had chuckled at her. "Living is a risk, love. Every decision, every interaction, every step, every time you get out of bed in the morning, you take a risk. To survive is to know you're that risk and to not get out of bed clutching illusions of safety. You have to leave this room sooner or later."

She knew he was right. She couldn't just huddle herself away in the master bedroom. The sun was nearly level with the horizon, right behind his head, making a weird halo effect around his head, she was surprised he doesn't smell like brimstone. He probably has a red pitchfork and hides horns under his hair. How dare the embodiment of her worst nightmare come packaged, signed, sealed and delivered as her hottest fantasy?

Maybe that was love. Being so vulnerable and allowing someone else in so far they could hurt you, but they also give you everything.

"Come on," He took her hand and guided her out of the room and into the hallway. When they managed to get downstairs, Stefan and Elena had been waiting for them.

"Hey."

"Hi." Celeste replied, passing Elena as she went into the kitchen.

Both Stefan and Elena had given her a look, then turned and silently asked Damon what was wrong, to which Damon only shrugged, passing them as he followed his love into the kitchen. They followed shortly after.

See, Stefan and Elena had decided to stay vampires. Odd, isn't it? The ones that didn't really want to become human, did. And the ones that were always trying to keep their humanity, ended up sticking with being a vampire. It was the craziest thing.

He had known he wanted her, that it was for all time, but he hadn't realized what was between them. A priceless gift, a treasure beyond his dreams. She was wrapped so tight inside of him, he knew it was more than his body and mind. More than his heart. She was entrenched in his soul. Damon had sat down, watching Celeste pour herself a cup of coffee. It seemed that he was doing just fine being a human. And that was saying something about him.

He felt safe with her. He'd never been safe with another human being. He'd never been able to trust. He could never give that last small piece - all that was left of his humanity - into someone else's keeping. And now there was Celeste, who had come back into his life at a time where he thought there was nothing left that the world could do to him. She came into his life and he had found a purpose again. She let him be whatever he had to be to survive. She didn't ask anything of him. There was no hidden motive. No agenda. Just acceptance. She was different - imperfect, or so she thought - and she knew what it was like to fight to carve out a space for herself. She was willing for him to do that.

It seemed Celeste couldn't shake the feeling of something about to happen. He had to find a way to get her mind off it.

And fast.


	2. Forever

She had been sitting in the library for hours, a book on her lap, just thinking. She had wondered what would make Zane hate her so much that he would want to turn her human again. What could she have possibly done to him that was so bad?

"What's in that pretty little head of yours?" Came the silky voice she'd heard so many times before. He was probably angry with her for being stuck in her own head for nearly over a week, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't shake the feeling that she'd done something terrible to Zane.

"I can't think of a reason for Zane to hate me so much." She whispered.

"Exactly. You can shoulder all the blame and become a martyr. Provided anyone knows what or who you're martyring for. Or you can accept that some things happen for a reason and realize there will be sacrifices along the way." He walked toward her and took a seat next to her.

She felt a pang of guilt… and something else she couldn't quite place, just after he spoke. She was supposed to be spending the rest of her nature human years with Damon, enjoying his company and his love.

Enjoying _him_.

"I'm sorry," She said after a few moments of silence. "I know I haven't exactly been the best company in the world and I -"

Damon silenced her with a kiss. It was gentle, like a shadow brushing over her chapped lips.

It was safe to say that her sanity threatened to take a holiday without her in that moment.

There were a thousand secrets in her eyes, a thousand wounds. A lifetime of distrust and betrayal. Isolation. How did one overcome such things? Damon had to be patient with her. Who only knew what happened during the hundred years that he lost her? He wasn't good at relationships, any better than anyone else. They had found a way to be together and fate had let them, after fumbling around in the dark. He wasn't going to lose her to her tormenting thoughts.

"I had to work so hard to find myself again, Damon." There was pain in her voice as she spoke. "I was so lost without you. You left me raw and wounded and trapped in a dark place with no windows or doors, with no way of escaping. I didn't know how to live without you. I didn't know how to smile or feel or be." Damon wiped a few tears that had fallen from her eyes. "It took almost two years of barracking myself in a windowless room before I really accepted that I might not see you again and I had to find a way to go on. I made myself strong. I was alive again. I could wake up some mornings and be happy. I could look at the ocean and find peace again. And when you called me, the day I came back to Mystic Falls, I had to see for myself, I needed to know if that was really you or if my mind was playing games with me."

"Listen to me, my black bird." Damon took her face in his hands. "The past is the past, I can only apologize for the present. I'm sorry that I was stupid all those years ago and I should have realized that it hurt you, but I couldn't risk you getting hurt because of some stupid vendetta that someone had against me. I'm sorry that your wolf boy decided he wanted to play witch doctor and slip you a drink that turned you human, I should've done something. I promise you, though, I will _never _leave you again."

She rested her hands on his forearms. "Do you ever think about... having a family?"

"Everyday since I turned back into a human." He answered truthfully.

"What's it like? Your family dream?"

"They all have your eyes - but they sparkle with mischief all the time." He smiled fondly and stared off into the distance, as if he was looking into a memory.

"They?"

"Yeah, I figure after about six or seven, you'd be a pro at it." A sneaky smirk curved his lips.

She pushed him with her shoulder, but beside herself, her lips curved up into a smile.

"I thought about a castle, going the old fashion way about how they would be conceived." Damon grinned at her. "Doing it the 1800's way, where it was all natural, no pain medication, nothing. Only the core strength of a woman giving life."

"So..." She shuddered. "...inhumane."

Damon chuckled.

"You know a lot more than I thought."

"I've been around 175 years," Damon replied. "I'd like to think I know more than everyone thinks."

She slapped his arm playfully.

"That's not what I meant."

"I see it as something that would be very personal," Damon ignored her reply as he grabbed her by the waist, turning her around, leaning her back against his chest. "Maybe a nurse would be there, too, but I've always imagined it as something like this, where the woman would be bare," He gently pulled down the straps of her tank top.

"You'd be against me, skin to skin, with my hands like this -" His hands grazed her forearms, before resting on top of her hands, as he intertwined her fingers with his on both hands. With his hands, Damon pushed her legs open. "- and I'd be behind you, encouraging you, keeping your mind off the pain, occasionally dabbing a damp cloth on your forehead.."

He smiled softly when her head fell back onto his shoulder. "And every once in awhile, when I thought the pain had subsided a little, I'd whisper in your ear about how you were doing great and that it would be over soon.. and then I'd gently give you a kiss on the neck, like this." Damon pressed a butterfly kiss to the side of her neck that was exposed to him.

He hadn't thought that this would be the way to make her forget the world, but he'd take it. "There's no room for him in your head, Celeste. I'm there. I'll always be there and if he tries to come in I'll drive him out until you're strong enough to do it yourself." Damon whispered into her ear, placing small kisses behind her ear and down her neck. "And there was never room for him in your heart because I was already there. He couldn't touch your soul. It belongs to you and no one else, unless you decide to share."

"Your idea of the way our children would be born sounds much better than mine."

"You don't have the same idea?" Damon asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Not even close." Celeste replied. "I'd want drugs. Lots of drugs."

Her body shook as his chest rumbled with laughter.

* * *

**Author's Note: **My favorite chapter of these two. All the feeeeeeeeeeeeels while writing this chapter was just... ajskdlfjasdfadf. Reviews are appreciated! 3


	3. Dark Desire

The snow began to fall again, drifting against the windows, politely begging entrance and then falling with disappointment to the ground as it was denied entrance. Celeste had stayed in the same room, in the same position, leaning against his chest.

"How long have we been sitting like this?"

His reply was warm against her neck, her throat. His lips touched the skin over her pulse and skimmed lightly up to her ear. "A good three or four hours maybe."

Damon nuzzled her neck, inhaling her fragrance, his hand sliding over her shoulder, moving gently over her satin skin to take possession of her breast. His breath came out in a rush as his palm cupped the soft weight, his thumb brushing her nipple into a hard peak. The feel of his large hand-so strong, so warm and possessive on her-sent heat curling through her body. Desire rose sharply. He was seducing her with tenderness.

Her hand caught at his wrist. "Are you hungry?"

That was a stupid question.

He was hungry.

Just not hungry for _food_.

He wanted to wake up every morning to her. Go to sleep with his body wrapped tightly around hers. He wanted her to have his child—his children. He knew he wanted to live out the rest of his life with her by his side and when he died, he wanted to die in her arms.

Sex was a practiced art to him. Each move calculated. His brain always worked while he performed, his body seducing his prey with ease, noting each response of his target. But in one moment, everything had changed. She swept him into a tidal wave of pure sensation, and he willingly let go and let her take him with her. He tasted passion. He tasted emotion. He tasted a world he'd never imagined, one he could never enter. It was right there in front of him, suddenly open to him. Unexpected. Exciting. Scary.

She didn't want soft and gentle. She needed his rough possession, claiming her, branding her, taking her in a firestorm of heat and flame that would end the world around them, leaving them nothing but ashes, clean and fierce and forever welded together. She was temptation wrapped in casual elegance.

He was demanding. He always would be. But sometimes, he was so vulnerable and she realized she had power in the relationship as well. She hadn't expected that. He was as vulnerable to her as she was to him. He just acted arrogant and bossy, but deep down, where it counted, he didn't want to lose her either.

He wanted her _now_.

Flames raced through her blood and licked down her skin at the intensity of the eroticism, the craving his mouth at her throat created. She moaned, low and soft, the note brushing at his soul like the flutter of butterfly wings. Her hands slid over his forearms, tracing each defined muscle with her fingertips, committing him to memory. Tears filled her eyes. How could a man be so sensual, so perfect? He was stealing her will as easily as he was stealing her body.

Not that she hadn't already given her body over to him.

"What does your future look like?" He whispered softly against her neck. "What do you see?"

"I see you.." She replied honestly. "I see the trials and tribulation that human life threw at us before."

"All in the past now." Damon answered her.

Damon brought Celeste's hand to the warmth of his mouth, his breath heating the pulse that was beating in her wrist. He bent his head, his teeth scraping a provocative rhythm over her pulse. Celeste went liquid, boneless, her stomach clenching in anticipation. She wanted him, badly.

"Damon.." She whispered, grasping his face, her fingernails grazing his face softly. She saw his eyes close and the quirk of his lips, twisting into a slight smile. She felt the shudder, too. It racked his body like a violent wave.

He bent his head to taste the vulnerable line of her neck, to feel her pulse in the warm, moist cavern of his mouth. His blood surged and pounded. Little jack hammers began to beat at his skull. A growl erupted from his throat as he pulled her onto his lap, roughly. His mouth went to hers and she was lost.

"Not like this," He whispered, breaking the kiss, brushing his lips across hers. "I want you, but not like this."

Celeste bottom lip stuck out.

"Don't pout." Damon chastised her, cupping her face. "Meet me in our room." He stood and began walking out of the library, toward their room.

"You are evil, Damon Salvatore." She called after his retreating back. "You know that?"

All she heard was his musical laugh echoing in the hallway.

By the time she managed the courage to get up and check his room, he was already casually laying in bed, in only a pair of pajama pants with his hands behind his head, a peaceful expression on his face.

She rolled her eyes and slipped into the room, stripping her tank top and pants, leaving her only in her skimpy underwear as she crawled in bed beside him. She straddled his lap and kissed his neck, giggling when he let his head fall against the headboard. She saw the same peace in Damon's eyes that she had witnessed only a handful of times, and it hit her that just like the other nights, his content expression was a direct result of reassurance from her.

She didn't speak; her lips continued working against his. His solid arms enveloped her, though and then she buried her face in his neck. It was one glorious moment as he stripped her of her underwear, all in one go. It told her that he'd done this before. He probably did.

She, in return, stripped him of his his restricting garments.

His sex stood thick and erect in a nest of coarse, dark hair. She barely had time to admire it before he picked her up. He slid into her as her hands went to his chest, making small crescent marks into his skin, and Celeste cried out at the slick intrusion. Her body was ready for him, willing and wet. He fit as though made to be inside her, and when he thrust, she felt her body clench around him.

She moved with him, raising her hips, grinding her pelvis against his until little sparks of delight shivered through her. His hands were on her ass, kneading the flesh in his palms. It was a delirious delight. And then, suddenly his lips claimed hers in a demanding, greedy kiss that robbed her of breath as well as reason.

There were no words to describe how he felt inside her except that she thought she might die if he stopped. Desire and need drove her onward, ground her against him as though her very life depended upon the release his body promised. She didn't just want him. She had to have him. She needed him more than she needed air or food.

The need drove her more than any ambition, more than her desire for revenge, more than her hatred. Damon could give her something no one else could. Her body recognized it, even if she had no idea what it was. Yet. She would, one day.

"Please." The rasp of her voice against his mouth was almost inaudible, _almost_.

Damon knew what she wanted, a century and a half of being a vampire instantly told him what she wanted. She saw the acknowledgment in his bright gaze. He stared into her eyes as he shoved himself into her. He withdrew almost all the way and then thrust again, bringing a cry of surrender to her lips. She didn't want to fight him, didn't want to stop him from doing whatever he would with her.

Still holding his gaze, she leaned her head back, her hair dripping over her back. Lids heavy, Celeste opened her eyes to see Damon licking his lips. It was something that made the fire burn even more. A moment later, she stiffened, arching her back above him as she cried out in climax. His own followed - a mind-numbing torrent of pleasure that had him slamming into her one last time, until he exploded inside her.

When his senses returned, she was lying on top of him, her head on his chest. He racked his fingers through her hair softly, brushing her dark locks across her back. His fingers danced lightly on the skin of her arms, her breathing the only indication that she was even still with him. He pulled the covers over them both and continued rubbing his fingertips over her skin, ushering her into a sweet and dream filled slumber.


	4. Sweet Lullaby

After their little sex romp in the Salvatore mansion, Celeste had decided she needed to go shopping. She needed something to get her mind off things, other than Damon abusing her body. She told Damon she was going to go in town and set her mind at ease. Damon had volunteered to go with her, but she turned him down. Stefan had offered to have Elena go with, but she turned him down, too.

Could they not let her go somewhere by herself?

She understood their concern as soon as she came out of a little coffee shop, munching on a muffin on her way out. When she reached Damon's car, which Damon had insisted she took while her bike was safely in the garage, away from her human hands, she had realized that someone was following her.

It wasn't a car though, she soon realized as she calmly tried to drive down the road, back toward the boarding house. She noted that it had fur. She knew who it was, instantly. There was no mistaking it. They were after her. The only question she had on her mind was: Why? The flight unfolded like background noise. White noise. In the foreground, She was thankful for the light dusting of snow that covered the deserted street, it gave her a little more leverage. She thanked the gods for Damon and keeping his car up to date with the latest tires.

The only thing she could kill Damon Salvatore for was the non existent heater that was in the car. He'd been a vampire for as long as he had the car, so what was the point of having heat? That's what she'd imagine his excuse as being. There's something insupportable about being pissed with the one person on this planet that sends your adrenaline flowing to remind you that you're alive. It's almost like we're mad because we've been shocked out of our usual comatose state of being by feeling something for someone, for ourselves, for just a moment.

That is, until something very loud and strong end up jumping on the hood of the car. She jerked the wheel to the left, sending the car into a violent spin, attempting to shake the werewolf from the hood of the car. Unfortunately, the beast had busted the glass out of the driver's side window, snapped at her hand that was nearest to it and caused her to lose complete control of the damn car.

It flipped, for what seemed like four or five times before it landed upside down on the concrete. The only thing that kept her together and from falling into the pile of windshield glass was her seatbelt that she had put on as soon as the feeling of being followed had set in.

Her head hurt and she was bleeding profoundly, a pool already beginning to seep into the ground. Her uninjured hand reached for her cellphone, dialing the one person she knew could help.

Stefan.

"Hello?"

"Stef- help."

Panic was on the other side. She could hear Damon hollering in the background. "Where are you?"

"The side of 129..." The phone dropped in the puddle of blood, with Stefan yelling on the other end.

She didn't notice, for the darkness had set in.

It didn't long for Stefan to find her. It wasn't hard to spot Damon's totalled car, either.

"Stefan! Tyler! She's in the car! She's not breathing!" Caroline hollered.

Tyler helped Stefan rip the door off the car and as he pulled the seatbelt from it's holder to drop her into Stefan's arms.

It took all of Elena's strength to keep Damon from going over to accident.

"You're human, Damon! You'll get hurt!"

"I don't care!"

In a surprising amount of strength, he had ripped her hands off his chest and ran toward his brother, just as he was setting the unconscious Celeste on the ground.

"There's no pulse."

"Give her your blood."

"Damon..."

"Do it!" Damon ordered.

Stefan did as his brother asked, slicing his wrist open and holding it to her lips. It seeped into her mouth, and with surprise in his voice, Stefan saw that her wounds were slowly healing.

"It's working."

"Celeste! Can you hear me?"

"Za-Zane...couldn't...stop.."

When a man sees a dying animal, horror comes over him: that which he himself is, his essence, is obviously being annihilated before his eyes-is ceasing to be. But when the dying one is a person, and a beloved person, then, besides a sense of horror at the annihilation of life, there is a feeling of severance and a spiritual wound which, like a physical wound, sometimes kills and sometimes heals, but always hurts and fears any external, irritating touch.

There will be today, there will be tomorrow, there will be always, and there was yesterday, and there was the day before... but was there a right now?

Damon knew then, that he was going to have a certain werewolf's head on a plaque above his bed. He was going to murder those three werewolves. "You're alive and you're okay."

She didn't feel alive.

He had picked up his beloved and carried her to the SUV, gently putting her in the back. He had the unlucky capacity many men have of seeing and believing in the possibility of goodness and truth, but of seeing the evil and falsehood of life too clearly to take any serious part in it. A man's every action is inevitably conditioned by what surrounds him and by his own body.

Long black hair and deep clear eyes and skin pale white and lips blood red, is what he saw when he gazed down at her. She was small and thin and worn and damaged. He was growing older. Old enough to feel the current of what had been flowing under him, leading to his future. Old enough to look back over his shoulder, and see his past behind him, and grieve for what was gone, and honour its memory.

He felt, suddenly, how much it would hurt him if Celeste died; felt an echo of that pain, knowing that the Celeste he had known, fluffy and peering and hapless and altogether wonderful, was slowly dying. She was slowly being taken away from him. If she died, Damon Salvatore would be vengeful. He would be in a blood rage and there would be _no one _that would stand in his way.

Right now, Damon's body and mind was not going to let her leave him to walk this earth alone.


	5. Looming Darkness

_You knock on the devil's door and he will head slam you through the wall. You can take my life, but you'll never break me. So bring me your worst, and I will definitely give you mine._

Your destiny is shaped by choice, never by chance. Beware the decisions you make, no matter how small, for they will be your salvation...or your death. Tragedy and adversary are the stones we sharpen our swords against so we can fight new battles. It had been a few weeks since the accident and Damon had never left Celeste's side once. If he had to, there was always someone else to babysit her. It was annoying, most times, but truthfully, Celeste just didn't want to be alone.

Life isn't finding shelter in the storm. It's about learning to dance in the rain. Sometimes things have to go wrong in order to go right. When you love someone, truly love them, you lay your heart open to them. You give them a part of yourself that you give to no one else, and you let them inside a part of you that only they can hurt-you literally hand them the razor with a map of where to cut deepest and most painfully on your heart and soul. And when they do strike, it's crippling-like having your heart carved out. Life is a tapestry woven by the decisions we make. You know the incredible thing about hearts is their unbelievable capacity for forgiveness. You'd be amazed what people will overlook when they love someone.

Damon had loved her enough to forgive her for trying to out run the werewolves.

That was the most she could ask for.

Everyone suffers at least one bad betrayal in their lifetime. Everyone wants someone they can hold and love. Someone who will be there to help pick up the pieces when everything falls apart. It's what unites us. The trick is not to let it destroy your trust in others when that happens. Don't let them take that from you. Forgiveness is the best part of valor. Discretion is easy. It's finding the courage to forgive yourself and others that is hard. The past is dead. Tomorrow will become whatever decision you make it. Have you ever wanted something that you knew was bad for you? Something that you ached for so much you could think of nothing else?

That was Celeste.

But no one would leave her alone long enough to get Damon in bed with her. The only time she actually got to have a little fun was when Elena had helped her dye her hair jet black. Damon didn't like it, at first. But he soon got over it after she told him that she was in dire need of something different. Nothing is ever truly set by fate. In one blink, everything changes. Even though it should be a clear, sunny day, the softest whisper into the wind can become a hurricane that destroys everything it touches. You know, it's amazing the wounds we carry for eternity. But what has fascinated her the most these last few years is how the right person can heal them. The worst wounds, the deadliest of them, aren't the ones people see on the outside. They're the ones that make us bleed internally.

Intentions don't matter. It's the end result we're all judged by. Evil in the name of good is still evil. And when you dance with the devil, you seldom get to pick the tune.

The slightest stirring in the air can set a hurricane in motion a thousand miles off.

She had found Elena and Stefan in the kitchen, preparing dinner, something they did pretty much every night since she and Damon turned back into humans. Celeste had cleared her throat and waited until they looked up and declared. "I want to be a vampire again."

The look on the three of them was priceless and she'd forever keep them in her memory for further inspection. The look on Damon's face, however, was one that she didn't think she wanted to keep. He was like some wild, untamed creature that you could keep and feed for a time, but in the end you knew you'd have to let it go for its own sake as well as yours.

"Why?" Damon asked.

"Because I'm sick of being human. Do you know how annoying it is to have these two as vampires and us being human when they were the ones that wanted to be human in the first place? This is like some cosmic screw up and it needs unscrewing!" She crossed her arms over her chest and stared Damon down.

Only he wasn't giving in so easily.

"No, you want to go after Zane and his merry gang of werewolves."

_Damn, he's good. _She thought.

A look passed over his face and he spoke again. "I knew it."

"So what if I do? I have unfinished business with them."

"You do realize that you go after them and they bite you, you're categorically fucked, right?" Damon raised an eyebrow at her. "Because Klaus is dead. There is no more cure for a werewolf bite."

"Yes, and your point is?" She countered, staring at him intently, hoping he'd give in.

* * *

**Author's Note: Geez, I know this chapter is super shorter than normal chapters, I'm sorry. It's been awhile since I've tried to write and I'm still trying to get into the swing of things so bear with me. xD If you want some special updates/chapter previews/artwork/etc, check out the tumblr I made for Heart of Darkness right here at heartxofxdarknessx (just put . tumblr . com -without spaces- at the end of 'darknessx' since this site hates clickable links.)**


	6. Thunder and Lightning

It was fantasy to think he could give his heart out to someone for a long period of time again. It's so strange how life works: You want something and you wait and wait and feel like it's taking forever to come. Then it happens and it's over and all you want to do is curl back up in that moment before things changed. There is nothing more annoying than cold logic and reason when you've got a good fit going. Celeste had figured that out when Damon listed off several reasons why she shouldn't become a vampire again.

This coming from the one that never wanted to be a human in the first place.

"You've truly lost your mind."

"I never said it would be easy. Giving up is easy." She replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "It's not your decision anyway, Damon. It's mine. I have a score to settle." He pounded her fist on the marble countertop. "You made me, you turned me, taught me what it was like to be a real vampire and suddenly you go soft and everyone else is supposed to obey your command? NEWSFLASH FOR YOU, YOU'RE HUMAN TOO."

Whatever nerve she struck in Damon, he moved like a cheetah, in her face faster than she could blink.

"I turned you and I can easily end you."

There was a fine line between irritation and having icicles hurled at your face.

"Bring it, dungeon boy."

Stefan and Elena had to step between the two of them before fists were thrown and faces were busted up.

We all must be true to our own nature. Acting as anyone other than yourself merely brings you pain and makes you appear ashamed of who and what you are. Others will feed off that shame, and soon it will be all that you are.

She had gotten out of Stefan's grip and walked outside as fast as her human legs would carry her. Unfortunately, someone had followed her.

"Wait."

_Stefan._

She didn't bother to turn around, she merely kept walking faster and faster. "No. I'm done. Screw him and his ego that has it's own zip code!"

Stefan grabbed her arm and made her stop, spinning her around so fast that her head spun. "I'll do it."

She blinked twice up at him. "You'll do it?"

It's not the pain that's inflicted on us by others that destroys us. It's the pain we let inside our hearts that does that. Don't let the human's anger become yours. It can drive you mad if you do. Mistakes don't have to define us. They're how we learn and grow. They show us who and what we don't want to be. It's why they're mistakes.

She had made that mistake by becoming human.

And now, she had a chance to go back.

By the unlikely of allies.

Stefan Salvatore.

Who would of thought?

Celeste looked up at him and said two words. "Do it."

He bit into his wrist and held it to her lips. She drank the coppery liquid hungrily. When she had her fill, she tilted her head and tossed her hair back, baring her neck to him. She saw him hesitate, but the sight of her neck and what it offered proved too powerful. A hungry expression crossed his face, and his lips parted slightly, exposing the fangs he normally kept hidden while living among humans. Those fangs contrasted oddly with the rest of his features. How odd what she notices when she's human, her senses all dulled and what not. With his pretty face and dirty blonde hair, he looked more like an angel than a vampire. As his teeth neared her bare skin, she felt her heart race with a mix of fear and anticipation. She always hated feeling the latter, but it was nothing she could help, a weakness she couldn't shake, a _human feeling _she would gladly get rid of.

His fangs bit into her, hard, and she cried out at the brief flare of pain. Then it faded, replaced by a wonderful, golden joy that spread through her body. It was better than any of the times she'd been drunk or high off the blood lust. She could barely remember what it felt like to be bitten. Better than sex. Okay, maybe that was going a little too far. It wasn't better than sex, but it was damn near close. It was a blanket of pure, refined pleasure, wrapping her up and promising everything would be right in the world. On and on it went. The chemicals in his saliva triggered an endorphin rush, and she lost track of the world, lost track of who she was.

* * *

When she woke, she was lying on a couch, and when she opened her eyes, she was staring into two sets of eyes, brown and green.

_Stefan and Elena._

Her head caught up with her, causing her to groan and grab her head in pain. She grabbed the back of the couch and sat up slowly. "I haven't felt this bad since college in '03."

Soon, a hand came into her vision. She looked up into the eyes of Damon. He was handing her some aspirin and a glass of blood. Suddenly feeling extremely small, she sheepishly took the contents from his hand and muttered a quiet thank you.

He made her feelings worse by sitting on the coffee table in front of her.

Suddenly self-conscious, she shifted one booted foot over the other.

"You sure you want to do this?"

She looked up to see Damon's bright eyes staring at her and she nodded her head, swallowing thickly. "I know this isn't what you saw, when we decided to be human, but Damon, I've been a vampire for so long that I forgot what it was like to live as a human."

His head hung in defeat, she could tell just by his posture.

She reached out and took his hand in hers. "Please don't be angry with my decision."

* * *

**Author's Note: dun dun dun, I left you guys hanging. Think Celeste will chicken out? Reviews are welcome! **


	7. The Sun Will Rise

No sympathy for the devil. Buy the ticket, take the ride and if it occasionally gets a little heavier than what you had in mind, well...maybe chalk it off to forced conscious expansion: Tune in, freak out, get beaten. He wanted what he didn't know and he didn't know how to get what he wanted. Silence echoed in his ears. It had been three days since Celeste turned back into a vampire and things hadn't been going well. She was losing her freaking mind, eating anything she wanted. And the worst part of it all? Her emotions were off the second she went off the deep end and completed the transition.

"We have to find her, she suicidal!"

"What do you expect, Elena?" Damon questioned. "She turned into a human and then all the guilt and regret and pain rushed in. The werewolf thought he was doing her a favor by turning her human but instead, he did the opposite. The pain and guilt got shut off the second she completed the transition."

"So she's the female version of Jekyll and Hyde?"

"Pretty much." Damon shrugged.

"So what do we do about it?" Caroline asked, sitting next to Bonnie, Jeremy, Tyler and Matt.

Stefan watched Damon with curiosity.

"Change me back." Damon said finally.

* * *

The past doesn't change no matter how much time you spend thinking about it. Good and bad all add up to the whole. Take away one piece, no matter how small, and the whole changes. There came a time in everyone's life when they realized that in spite of how hard they'd been running from themselves, everywhere they went, there they were: Addictions and compulsions were nothing but marching bands of distraction, masking truths that were unpleasant, but ultimately undeniable.

Destiny was a machine built over time, each choice that you made in life adding another gear, another conveyor belt, another assemblyman. Where you ended up was the product that was spit out at the end—and there was no going back for a redo. You couldn't take a peek at what you'd manufactured and decide, Oh, wait, I wanted to make sewing machines instead of machine guns; let me go back to the beginning and start again. One shot. That was all you got. It was either fight or die like a coward. Hatred is a bitter, damaging emotion. It winds itself through the blood, infecting its host and driving it forward without any reason. Its view is jaundiced and it skews even the clearest of eye sights.

Sacrifice is noble and tender. It's the action of a host who values others above himself. Sacrifice is bought through love and decency. It is truly heroic. Vengeance is an act of violence. It allows those who have been wronged to take back some of what was lost to them. Unlike sacrifice, it gives back to the one who practices it. Love is deceitful and sublime. In its truest form, it brings out the best in all beings. At its worst, it's a tool used to manipulate and ruin anyone who is stupid enough to hold it. Don't be stupid, he told himself. Sacrifice is for the weak. Hatred corrupts. Love destroys. Vengeance is the gift of the strong.

"I will compensate all your one-inch, two-inch losses because I know how important every inch is to you aged, decrepit men." Celeste whipped around and grabbed the human by his neck with her arm. "You might be strong, but you're no where near as strong as me." Her fangs dropped and Celeste reveled in the feeling of his blood in her mouth, soaking her throat. She fought the men and she slayed the monsters and she bested the gods, and at last the hero, having conquered all, earned the thing that she wanted most. To become human and yet, here she was, a vampire once again because she couldn't deal with the pain and the guilt and she wanted nothing more than to be able to shut it off.

But perhaps the best part of all was that she, Celeste Ivanov, guilty of constantly analyzing the world around her, well, she stopped thinking. And it was the best thing in the world. Sure, she's pissed off. But her actions are not entirely without thought. She might regularly open her mouth without thinking, but she never starts a fight without consulting her brain. For this one, she figured she'd won as soon as she made the first move.

Someone shouted, "Enough!" and she thought too much and nothing at all.

She let the body hit the floor and turned to face the voice. Everyone was circling her. Stefan, Elena, Caroline, Bonnie, Tyler, Matt and Jeremy.

She locked eyes on Matt, the human. His blood pulsing through his veins.

She went for it, but was stopped by Damon.

"I see you turned back." She said in a bored tone.

"To stop you from making the biggest mistake you can make."

"Oh yeah?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "And what's that?"

"Turning off your emotions."

"Been there, done that."

"No, not yet. You think my first instinct is to protect you. Because you're a girl, or unstable. But you're wrong."

He leans his face close to hers and wraps his fingers around her chin. Celeste's skin tingled at the point of contact, like he's transmitting electricity through his skin. "My first instinct is to push you until you break, just to see how hard I have to press." he says, his fingers squeezing at the word break. Her body tenses at the edge in his voice, so she's coiled as tight as a spring, and she forgets to breathe.

"Go to hell, Damon." She smacked his hand away from her face and raced toward Matt, sinking her fangs into his neck and tasting the good stuff. She felt herself being pushed away from Matt and snarled at the culprit.

_Elena. _

"Stay away from him."

"And I'm supposed to listen to you, why?"

She whipped around and kicked Elena in the chest, sending her flying into a tree.

"_STOP!_"

Before Elena could attack back, Damon had Celeste by the back of her hair and Stefan was standing in between them and her.

"Knock it off. This is not you," Damon spun Celeste around and grabbed her face in his hands. "Because you aren't who you think you are. You aren't what everyone else believes. You might have delivered countless deaths but you love more fiercely than anyone I've ever known. Turn them back on."

She ripped her face from his hands and shook her head.

"Fuck you."

She took off running. Stefan was going to stop her when Damon spoke. "No. Leave her. She'll figure it out sooner or later."

"Damon-"

"Leave her, Stefan."

* * *

**Author's Note: So sorry for this super late update. I know I said I was going to be working more on this story but I came down with a cold and felt like utter crap, didn't feel like updating anything, to be honest. But here's the next chapter! What do you think? Reviews are welcome! Seems like Celeste has been dealing with things without letting others know about it... what do you think'll happen next?**


	8. Author's Update

I feel bad that I haven't touched this story in awhile.

I know, I'm terrible, I just had no passion for writing.

I sit down and try to write and something else demands my attention.

I'm sorry you all have to wait.

I'm hoping I can finish this story and the other one that is still unfinished.

I hope.

Forgive me?


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